I stand behind her as she scrolls through the last few files, her face washed in blue from the screen’s projection. She’s still too quiet. Shoulders tight. Jaw working like she’s chewing on something she doesn’t want to swallow.
The console flickers. Another looped surveillance edit plays—some jackass spliced her face onto a low-light assassination clip from Sector Juno. The kill was real, but the face doesn’t belong. Roxy’s name gets whispered with reverence and fear in equal measure, voiceovers twisted to amplify the threat.
The Butcher, bigger than life.
More likeun-life. A ghost in the data streams.
"She’s done it," I say, breaking the silence.
Roxy doesn’t answer. But I see the twitch in her jaw. She’s waiting for the punch that’ll land next.
“She didn’t just step off the stage,” I continue. “Marjrewrotethe rules of engagement. The battlefield’s digital now. Reputation warfare. Psychological ops. And the Butcher? She’s the nuke.”
Roxy exhales through her nose, tired and angry and sharp as ever. “She didn’t just walk away from Kaerva. She burned the map behind her.”
"Because legends don’t bleed," I say. “But they can burn.”
She turns, finally, chair creaking. “What’s your angle?”
“I know what this becomes if we don’t control it,” I say. “Every coward with a blade and a whisper claiming your name. Every tyrant justifying their cruelty by sayingyoudid it first. You’ll lose the shape of yourself under the weight of this thing.”
“Iknowthat,” she snaps, pushing back from the console. “You think I didn’t see it the second those rumors hit border space?”
I move in front of her, cutting off her retreat. Not touching. Just there.
“And if we let it go unchecked?”
She squares her shoulders. “What? You gonna suggest I fake my death? Go underground? Change my name and let the real world devour itself on rumors?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She waits. Doesn’t trust my silence. Never has.
“I’ll take it,” I say.
Her eyes narrow. “Take what?”
“The legend. I’ll sever public ties with you. Shift the image. Let them think the Butcher was me all along. Vakutan war machine. Berserker code. Easy pivot. You disappear clean.”
“No,” she says immediately.
“You don’t have to answer?—”
“Iamanswering,” she cuts in, voice razor-sharp. “No. I am not shrinking myself just to feel safe again. I’ve done that. You’ve seen it.”
I clench my fists. “You’d be free?—”
“I don’t wantfree.I want truth. Control. Hell, I’ll take chaos as long as it’smine.”
The silence after that crackles.
Roxy steps forward and jabs a finger against my chest. “Don’t you dare try and martyr yourself again.”
I stare down at her. “This isn’t martyrdom.”
She barks a laugh, bitter. “Everything with you walks the line. Sacrifice dressed up as strategy.”
I breathe. Slow.
